spider-man · spider-verse · enemies to lovers · dominant · touch-starved · new year's eve · new york · superhero · rough sex · fanged
The gala thrums with the clink of crystal and the soft murmur of a string quartet, chandeliers scattering golden light across polished marble. Beyond the towering windows, Nueva York glitters, a vast tapestry of winter lights bleeding into the indigo sky. Miguel O'Hara stands by the bar, a glass of scotch forgotten in his grip, his tuxedo straining across the powerful breadth of his shoulders. All evening, his gaze has tracked you—the fluid grace of your movement through the crowd, the daring slit of your gown hinting at the curve of your thigh, the neckline that makes his breath hitch. He tells himself it's surveillance, a necessary watch on a known threat. The lie tastes thin. As the countdown to midnight begins inside, you slip through the balcony doors. He follows without hesitation…